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Description
Why do I allow myself to feel?
Any time I open up, all that I feel is pain.
In my car, loss and agony ride shotgun, with depression and doubt in the backseat, giving directions.

Loss has the form of a sixteen year old blonde from my past. I know it can't be her, for she's no longer a part of my life. She rides in the side seat of my mind's automobile. Her smile still wracks my body with pain. I know at this point I'm dreaming. This horrid world of dreams is where I go when I rest. Every night, a new adventure, but I always end up in the same place.

Depression and apathy are the forms I cower in during the daylight hours. It's a uniform I wear well. They fit me like a second skin now. I'm a master actor, but you wouldn't know it unless you saw me at home. Out in the world of the normal people, I'm just as happy and polite as anyone you'll ever meet. When the sun goes down, it all changes.

The night brings the best and worst out in me. I find comfort in the darkness. It never tells you how bad you are at things. Never nags at you to do something with your life. Where there is darkness, people such as myself will always find a welcome home.

The shroud of the night is where my thoughts drift to my past, however. When I get home, the headphones go on, and my only outside contact with the real world is when someone actually walks in the room. The raging rhythms cleanse my soul for a time, but the doubt and agony soon begin to gnaw at me.

Life is like a femme fatale. Things start out innocent enough, but she just waits for her moment to strike. Always when you don't see it coming. I've been knocked down again. It'll be a while before I get up.

Description
Why do I allow myself to feel?
Any time I open up, all that I feel is pain.
In my car, loss and agony ride shotgun, with depression and doubt in the backseat, giving directions.

Loss has the form of a sixteen year old blonde from my past. I know it can't be her, for she's no longer a part of my life. She rides in the side seat of my mind's automobile. Her smile still wracks my body with pain. I know at this point I'm dreaming. This horrid world of dreams is where I go when I rest. Every night, a new adventure, but I always end up in the same place.

Depression and apathy are the forms I cower in during the daylight hours. It's a uniform I wear well. They fit me like a second skin now. I'm a master actor, but you wouldn't know it unless you saw me at home. Out in the world of the normal people, I'm just as happy and polite as anyone you'll ever meet. When the sun goes down, it all changes.

The night brings the best and worst out in me. I find comfort in the darkness. It never tells you how bad you are at things. Never nags at you to do something with your life. Where there is darkness, people such as myself will always find a welcome home.

The shroud of the night is where my thoughts drift to my past, however. When I get home, the headphones go on, and my only outside contact with the real world is when someone actually walks in the room. The raging rhythms cleanse my soul for a time, but the doubt and agony soon begin to gnaw at me.

Life is like a femme fatale. Things start out innocent enough, but she just waits for her moment to strike. Always when you don't see it coming. I've been knocked down again. It'll be a while before I get up.